


Safeword

by dreamofflight



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, M/M, Red - Freeform, Spanking, possible panic attack, safe word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 07:03:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2015571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamofflight/pseuds/dreamofflight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Castiel are in the midst of some bondage play time, when Dean safewords out. This is the aftermath (it's just fluffy nonsense honestly)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safeword

_**“Red!”** _

The solitary shouted word stopped all movement. The last echo of leather on skin faded quickly, leaving silence in its wake. He took deep breaths, rocketing in and then shuddering back out, as he tried his best to get the feelings inside himself to just calm the fuck down. When Castiel spoke, it spooked Dean; the dancing darkness behind his eyelids had been a false safety blanket from the outside world.

“Dean?” Castiel’s voice was calm, even. Dean was frozen still as Cas climbed down from his previous perch atop Dean’s ass, taking to kneeling on the bed beside Dean instead. Dean’s eyes remained closed.

“Do you need the restraints off now?” Without hesitation he nodded, turning his face away from Castiel’s prodding voice to bury it against the mattress. The mattress felt aflame as he breathed against it, his skin burning in turn; his face had to be bright red, and didn’t that just take the fuckin’ cake?

“Sorry, Cas,” Dean mumbled angrily, the sound barely reaching Castiel’s ears as he moved around the perimeter of the bed, deftly pulling the slip knots out of each length of rope. He frowned at Dean’s words and tone, but kept moving, releasing each limb in turn.

“Dean,” Cas started, but stopped when Dean rolled over away from him the instant he was free from his bonds. Dean curled up into a tight ball, his freckled back a wall of tense muscle, once again refusing to let Castiel see his face. Castiel cleared his throat lightly and sat down on the edge of the bed, the weight barely enough to shift Dean’s form.

“Dean,” Cas said again, his voice still carefully even, “can you let me check your wrists and ankles please? I want to make sure the marks don’t need tending to.”

It was an easy request, a normal one, really. They’d been doing the whole ‘tie you up BDSM’ thing for a while now. Which was probably one of the reasons why Dean felt so god damn stupid for freaking out.

“…Yeah,” Dean murmured, clearing his own throat and sitting up, the stinging burn of his ass nothing compared to the embarrassment he was feeling. He offered Castiel first one wrist and then the other, as soon as Cas was done inspecting the first. Ankles followed; Castiel’s strong, gentle grip reassured Dean as he swept his thumb along the red and white marks that the rope had left behind.

“You may have a bruise or two here…,” he said, thumb brushing over a particularly harsh mark, where the rope must have rubbed too much. Dean nodded mechanically, his eyes un-focused while he let his mind wander.

They hadn’t been doing anything out of the ordinary. This…this thing that he and Cas had going was good. It was awesome, actually. Better than any sex he’d ever had, and Dean Winchester had had a LOT of sex. And he’d safe worded out in the middle of it. Like a chicken shit.

“Dean?” Castiel’s words snapped Dean out of his mental loop. He’d been clenching his hands without realizing it, the nails biting into the flesh of his palms, his entire body held rigid. He relaxed immediately.

“Sorry, Cas,” he apologized again.

“Stop saying that please,” Cas murmured, leaning in just enough to take Dean’s hands in his own, once more inspecting them. The spots Dean had dug into his palms were just crescents of white that slowly turned red as the blood rushed back into the area. No blood seeped to the surface though, which seemed to please Cas, as he gently brought Dean’s hands up to kiss each palm in turn. Dean swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat and before he could stop them, tears had formed and spilt down his cheeks.

Castiel was silent as he let Dean’s hands go, choosing to take Dean’s face in between his own instead. He slowly pulled until Dean relented, and let his chin be lifted, his eyes flicking up step by step to lock onto Cas’ own.

The depth of worry he saw there shocked Dean. It shouldn’t have, given the years they’d been together. After all the things they’d seen and done, the way they’d both grown around one another, Dean should expect this level of worry and concern for his well-being from his husband. But he never did. It always surprised him; every single time it surprised him that someone could love him as completely as Castiel did.

Even with all his flaws.

He sobbed, softly, his shoulders shaking just once, before his face crumpled. Dean fell forward, burying his face against Castiel’s bare chest, tears scalding hot where they made their haphazard trails over his face, to plink down and get lost amongst the bed sheets. His hands scrabbled for purchase, nails biting absently into the delicate pale skin of Castiel’s back. Still, Castiel said nothing.

Instead of speaking, he chose to wrap his arms tightly around Dean, and held his body close, rocking them both in a slow rhythm. Dean cried, and cried, until the sobs were dry and his eyes produced no more, blinking and burning from use.

In the quiet that followed, only broken by Dean’s shuddery inhales and exhales, Castiel spoke.

“It’s okay.”

Dean snorted and sniffed.

“It is,” Castiel said firmly, “It’s okay.” Dean didn’t respond, so Castiel continued.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“…no,” Dean mumbled, sounding to his own ears like a pouting child. He could feel the smile on Castiel’s face from where he’d wound up, head tucked under Castiel’s chin.

“Okay.”

Another moment of silence.

“Would you like a slice of pie and a beer instead?”

Dean snorted again, but this time he was the one to crack a smile.

“…Yeah. Yeah, that’d be okay,” he huffed, squeezing Castiel’s torso where his arms were still locked around him. Castiel smiled again.

“Okay. Would you mind if I held you for a little while longer?”

“Nah, Cas. Do what you gotta do, man,” Dean mumbled, and pretended he wasn’t getting just as much out of it as Castiel was.


End file.
